The Process of Healing
by swordfighting-cherry
Summary: Seven years have passed since Voldemort was defeated at the Battle of Hogwarts, and everyone is still mourning Harry Potter, including Ron Weasley. When it appears as though their past mission has failed and Tom Riddle is once more alive, will the remnants of the Order be able to stop him? Or will it be up to only a few people once more? R/Hr and D/G
1. The Letter

**A/N**: I realize that this is not canon (though I will carry over a lot of canon plot), but I promise all will be explained.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything but the plot, please don't sue me.

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CHAPTER ONE

The crisp spring air ruffled Ron Weasley's hair as a breeze blew his way. He enjoyed the feeling of the wind against his face; it was almost like flying again, something he hadn't done since his two years on the Gryffindor quidditch team. He could have laughed at the thought now, he had always been just shy of terrible— especially when under pressure. He wondered if he would have been any better now, now that being under pressure was quite a familiar feeling.

The war was over now. Had been for almost seven years. They had won, the Order and everyone who valued life and magic over some trumped up sense of superiority because of blood, but the cost had almost been too much to endure. They were scarred and marked, disfigured and disabled. The physical wounds would have been enough, of course, but it was the emotional ones— the loss of loved ones— that still couldn't completely heal.

He knew of course, watching his children zoom around on their brooms in their backyard, that it had still been worth it. They had saved the entire wizarding world from a terrible fate. Hell, it hadn't just been the wizarding world they were rescuing in the end. And yet, that knowledge did so very little to numb the pain, especially on days like this.

Ron felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head to see Hermione smiling wistfully down at him. Her hair was let loose, and although it would never be fine and smooth, it was finally straight and more settled. She was wearing a simple powder blue dress robes that matched her honey-colored skin well, and despite not looking directly at her, he knew she had the same expression she wore whenever she was about to lecture him.

"Today's the anniversary," she stated simply, even though she knew he was completely aware. She was still the same Hermione, when it came down to it.

He nodded glumly to this, and she continued to remind him softly, "We were thinking of getting together to remember again."

"I don't know if I can," he answered, avoiding her gaze and what he was sure to be her pitying eyes.

"Ron, you always say that," she said, her voice shaky as if she was worried he was going to start yelling at her. This was the one thing that they had never been able to properly argue about, after all, "but it's not healthy for you to keep all this pain bottled up. Maybe it's time you came."

He didn't reply at first. Part of him had naively hoped that one of these years she would just let it go and stop making such a fuss, but who was he kidding? If anyone knew how determined Hermione Granger-Weasley was, it was Ron. "I know you think that, Hermione, but I really can't do it. I can't go, it's not the same for me as it is for you."

She tensed almost immediately, and he know how desperately she must be holding back angry words, but finally she sighed and said, "Really, Ron, you know that isn't true. Stop trying to make me angry so I'll leave you alone, we're both more mature than that."

"I wouldn't bet on that, Hermione," a familiar voice said behind them, "at least for his sake, of course."

Ron turned his head to see Neville Longbottom grinning at them as he walked over. The man had grown taller since school, and the boyish face that had always been plagued with nervousness and worry had matured. "Confident" was now one of the main words used to describe Neville, such a stark contrast that Ron had decided they must be to completely different people. After all, the Neville Longbottom that was constantly tripping over his robes and searching for his lost toad Trevor could never have slain You-Know— Voldemort's snake Nagini.

"Don't harass me, Neville," Ron laughed, "you may be a Professor now, but I still work for the Ministry."

Neville laughed at that, looking slightly embarrassed as Ron referenced to the man's new teaching position. "Alright, alright. I'll let it go for now, but only cause I don't want you sending any hit-wizards, Head Auror Weasley."

"Yeah," Ron laughed, "as if Malfoy wasn't bad enough without being legally allowed to curse and hex people."

Neville nodded, but his smile seemed to be just a tad worried at the idea of their old school enemy. Hermione had already looked quite surprised— it seemed Ron had forgotten to tell her about their friend's new job— and smiled excitedly once he and Ron stopped talking, "Oh, Neville, you're a Professor? That's great! Congratulations! What class are you teaching? I assume Herbology, of course."

He nodded, smiling, "Yeah, Professor Sprout decided to retire and McGonagall just asked me this last week before term ended. I'll start in the fall."

"Oh that's wonderful," she said, looking as though she were just a tad envious, even though Ron knew how much she loved working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. "I'm sure you'll love it."

Neville agreed with a quick nod, and then turned to Ron again, apprehension filling his face as he asked, "Are you coming?"

"No," Ron replied simply, trying to ignore the way Neville's face fell at his straightforward reply.

Hermione, however, seemed encouraged by Neville's failed attempt if only because it meant that she could nag Ron more if she wasn't going to go completely unsupported, "Please, dear,"— she only used "dear" when she was annoyed with him or pleading— "maybe if you come, she will. She was the closest to you, after all."

That did nothing to comfort Ron, however Hermione had meant it. He knew Ginny, because that's who Hermione was speaking of after all, wouldn't show up just because Ron decided to go to some memorial. They hadn't seen her in seven years, after all, and Ron hadn't even been speaking to her before then. Why everyone still dared believe she was alive was beyond him, although he supposed in Hermione's case she was just trying to be overly optimistic for him. "Hermione, you know the last person she would have shown up for is me, even if I believed for a second that she was still ali—,"

"She has to be alive, Ron," Neville said quietly, but with a tone still strong enough to interrupt him, "we would have found a body and all the Death Eaters would have advertised killing Harry's girlfriend, you know that."

Perhaps it was the way Hermione was looking at him, the sympathy filling her eyes or maybe even the accusing tone that Neville had used, but Ron finally snapped. "It's been seven years! Seven years, Neville! If she wanted to show up she would have by now, you _know_ that! Merlin, and why would she? Half of our family is dead and Harry—,"

But he choked, unable to finish the rest of his sentence. He had half a mind to just disapparate right there, to leave them with their stricken expressions and their failing words of comfort. It was as though invisible walls were closing around him, he could feel himself suffocating, and even the color of the late afternoon sky was grating on his nerves.

"God, Weasley, are you always this cynical?"

Ron turned to see none other than Draco Malfoy having found them, and felt relief wash through him. The complete and utter irony of that did occur to him, of course, even still, but he didn't care. Draco was quite possibly the only person that wouldn't be completely naïve about the situation and understand that all Ron wanted was space.

Draco turned to both Hermione and Neville, asking, "Could we speak alone, please?"

Surprisingly, neither of them resisted. Even though Draco Malfoy was far from any of their best friends, all things considered, he and his parents had garnered quite a bit of respect from them during the war. After all, even Ron couldn't deny that when he, Hermione, and Harry had been captured and taken up into Malfoy Manor, Draco knew exactly who he was looking at despite any disfigurement Hermione's spell had caused. Draco had seen Harry every day ten months straight for six years and absolutely hated him— he probably would have recognized Harry in complete blackness.

Once both Neville and Hermione had left, Ron felt the initial relief quickly leave him and he quickly put up a pretense of watching Rose and Hugo chase each other on the ground, brooms long forgotten.

"You know, if you don't start going to those memorials Weasley, they're going to run out of speakers. Merlin knows what everyone will do if they have to have _me_ speak about Potter."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron sighed, trying desperately not to start arguing. _Everything is in the past_, he tried to remind himself.

"Ah, well, it seems that this appeared at your desk this morning,"— he handed Ron a blank envelope that held something inside— "and I was tasked with delivering it to you. Kingsley still seems to be under the mysterious impression that because we went to school together and are in the same Ministry department we need to be _friends_, or something equally disgusting."

Draco used the same drawl that distinctly reminded Ron of their time at Hogwarts, and it was all he could do to stop his hand from going immediately to his wand. "Right, well you've done your job so you can leave, Malfoy. And tell Kingsley I'm going to hex him for giving you my address as soon as I have the chance."

"Don't worry, Weasley, I would have found it eventually. It has the same sort of _charm_ that I'm sure your parent's house did—," but he stopped taunting Ron as soon as he caught sight of the scowl Ron was sure he was sporting and simply shook his head, smirking, "sorry, Weasley. Old habits die hard, as they say. I'll leave you alone, then, after all you seem to have a busy day of disappointing what's left of your family and friends another year in a row."

It struck Ron that the last insult Draco gave was not necessarily an insult at all, but more of a shrewd observation. Ron only barely resisted cursing Malfoy while the man walked away, instead turning to the envelope in his hands and opening the letter. He almost fainted as soon as he saw the all-too familiar handwriting. Ever slowly, his hands shaking terribly, he pulled out the parchment fully and began to read.

"_Dear Ron,_

_If you knew how complicated the spell was to charm this into arriving when you needed it the very most, you'd think I was bloody Merlin himself. Rest assured, I simply left your letters on Dumbledore's old desk and left a note for McGonagall._

_I've just learned that I'm the last Horcrux, through Snape's memories. That's one hell of a story in itself, but I left that in Hermione's letter. Either way, I know that I'm supposed to die. It's been planned all along, even though none of us realized. And I guess, well actually I know, that I won't be able to do what I'm supposed to do and also tell you and Hermione goodbye in person. But you deserve some sort of farewell, of course. And Ron, if I hadn't met you on the Hogwarts train and we hadn't become best mates— my life would have been meaningless even with magic and everything. If you only knew how bad things were with the Dursley's before I got my letter, well, needless to say you were the first friend I had ever had. I owe you so much._

_Anyway, I guess the main point of this is that besides trying to find a way to tell you 'I love you' and not sound cheesy, is to tell you that you better have stopped being an ungrateful git and moping about my death. I mean, I pride myself on being hard to get rid of, but— well, just please move on, Ron. I know how you are. You'll blame yourself for not trying to find me and stop me, but what you don't understand is that it had to be done. Don't let it go to waste._

_Forgive me._

_Your best mate,_

_Harry_

Rose, having long forgotten her game of chasing Hugo around the yard, had ran up to him and was hugging his legs as Ron finished the letter, asking, "Daddy, why are you crying?"

He moved onto his knees so he was eye-level with his daughter, and was about to answer her before the reply was caught in his throat. Rose quickly threw her arm around her shoulders, looking terribly sad, and he finally grieved Harry for the first time in seven years in her arms.

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A/N: So this is the first chapter. More to come quickly. Please review!


	2. The Return

A/N: Here you go... it ends on a sort of cliffhanger. I promise everything will start picking up after this.

Also, for this story I will review for reviews. Just leave the name of the story you want me to comment on with your praise/critique. :)

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Chapter Two: The Return

It wasn't long before Hermione and Neville came back out of the house, and Ron could hear them ranting to each other about whatever else Malfoy must have said. Within seconds of seeing Ron though, they became quite concerned and Hermione immediately asked, "Are you okay, Ron? What happened?"

Rose wiped Ron's eyes for him, making him smile down at her kindly, before he stood up to face both of them. Neville mumbled something about checking on Hugo and he took Rose away from Ron and Hermione. Ron waited until he was gone to show Hermione the letter.

"Oh, Ron," she said, her face almost turning white, "I wondered when you would get it, but he made me promise not to tell. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," he replied, finding himself unable to be angry at her, "I understand. I just—,"

He wasn't able to make sense of what he wanted to say though, and Hermione frowned, quickly asking, "Do you want me to explain everything? I know we heard most of it after he wrote them, but..."

She was talking quickly, and he reached his hand out to touch her arm and calm her down, "Not now. I need time, I guess. But Hermione?"

"Yes?" She asked, her voice a little high-pitched like it always was when she was nervous.

"Who's speaking? At the memorial, I mean."

"Oh," she said, sounding surprised, probably worried that he had been about to be angry with her, "well, I believe it's your dad, actually."

Perhaps Malfoy was right, Ron thought, maybe they were running low on proper speakers. Not that his Dad hadn't known Harry of course, and Harry had saved his Dad's life back in their fifth year after all, but... No, his dad definitely wouldn't do. Not when other people had known him better. Not when Ron had known him so much better... "Oh... well, who's going to be there?"

"Quite a few people. Everyone from the Order of course, and everyone from the D.A. Some Ministry officials, some people we went to school with. You know it's sort of odd, but Malfoy actually comes every year too. He doesn't speak with anyone, he just comes as late as he can without missing anything and then leaves right as the speaker goes to sit down."

Ron didn't reply right away, thinking that must have been how Malfoy knew they were running low on proper speakers and that Ron hadn't ever been. It seemed that there were going to be plenty of people, more than he had ever spoken in front of definitely, but he felt himself speak before he could stop himself, telling Hermione, "I'll do it. I'll speak instead of Dad."

"I— are you _sure,_ Ron?" if she had been expecting anything, it definitely hadn't been that, he could tell, "I mean you haven't even been to one, and there's a lot of people we don't know. You can't possibly be ready."

"I'm sure," he said firmly, "it shouldn't be my Dad."

Hermione looked like she was very much considering arguing, but all she did was bite her lip hesitantly instead. "Well, I suppose if you're _really_ sure..."

"I am, Hermione," he replied, that old exasperated tone slipping back in like it sometimes did, "I wouldn't have said anything if I wasn't."

She didn't reply, apparently not exactly agreeing with him. Neville came up not long after, looking up at Hermione as both Rose and Hugo ran up behind him. "It's almost time to get going. Are you ready, Hermione?"

"No, actually, Neville you might want to go on ahead," Hermione answered, "Ron's decided to come so we'll need to find a sitter. I suppose I can floo Gabrielle, she's usually fine with watching them."

Both Neville and Ron watched as she muttered a few words and went hurriedly into the house.

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When they finally arrived to the designated spot on Hogwarts ground— Ron was distinctly reminded of Dumbledore's funeral— there were plenty of people waiting. He was extremely irritated and nervous to find that reporters for the Daily Prophet were indeed there as well, as it was only moments before they arrived that cameras started flashing.

It had been quite awhile since he had seen most of the people here— Alicia, Katie, Parvati, Dean and Seamus, Lee— even his ex-girlfriend Lavender was here as well. They all gave him varying waves and smiles as they noticed him, and he quickly went over to where his family was sitting. Bill and Fleur were sitting with Charlie, George, and Percy. Ron felt his heart constrict at the open space on the right of George— where Fred should have been— but Angelina sat down not long after. Ron searched the crowd for his father and found him up on the make-shift podium, sitting down by the Minister, Kingsley. It was again terrible to see his father and brothers without the women of the family. Ginny, still not found, and then his mother— she had been murdered so shortly after the battle by Rabstan and Rodolphus Lestrange, revenge for killing Bellatrix. Ron felt his throat tighten.

Ron's dad caught sight of him and quickly left his seat at the podium and rushed over. His brothers looks followed their Dad, but before Ron could smile at them his Dad was hugging him tightly and he was holding onto the older man as if he was a child again.

"I'm glad you were able to come, Ronald," his dad said, as Ron was pressing his eyes into the fabric of his father's robes, hoping when he broke away that his face wouldn't be wet with tears.

"Thanks," He replied awkwardly as he pulled away, not knowing what else to say.

Kingsley had walked over, he saw, and gave Ron and Hermione a smile before turning back to Ron's dad, "Arthur, I think it's about time to start. I'll give a few words first, and then—,"

"I'm speaking," Ron interrupted, his stomach plummeting a little as Kingsley looked back over to him appraisingly.

"Well," the intimidating man said, and Ron hoped desperately that he wasn't about to make an arse of himself in front of his boss and the Daily Prophet, "that would be more fitting, if you are up to it."

He nodded, feeling Hermione's supportive hand slip into his. Kingsley gave a short nod and they followed him up the podium, Ron's father quickly sitting down by Charlie. The cameras were flashing at a dizzying speed, the clicking noise almost masking all of the murmurs that were being spoken as everyone caught sight of Ron.

Kingsley stood up first, not bothering to cast a Sonorous charm due to his naturally booming and loud voice. "To everyone who has gathered here, welcome. May you find solace in the comfort of peace and remember those who have fallen to give it. Some may be your friends, some your family, and of course, the hero we honor every year on this day, the fallen Harry Potter."

There was a stillness as he finished speaking, as if everyone had agreed to a moment of silence, and after a moment Kingsley gave a nod and continued, "Now, I would like to introduce you to our speaker, our current Head Auror, Ronald Weasley. I knew him only slightly through my work with the Order of Phoenix, but he and Hermione Granger were the exceptional young witch and wizard to help our Harry defeat Voldemort, and several people can attest that there was no greater friend to Harry than this man. Ronald Weasley."

_Why had he done this?_ Was the first thought that came to his mind as Kingsley bowed out of the way and Ron shakily stepped up to the podium. He had never been a leader, that had always been Harry's thing... But he had proved himself since then, he thought, thinking of his promotion to Head Auror as he felt his stomach turn. He took a deep breath, focusing on the castle looming behind everyone as he began.

"To some people this a holiday, some big thing to celebrate. I can understand that. It's what I would do, if I were them, us Weasley's love a good party. But for most of you here, that's not a possibility. We lost family and friends to Voldemort, people who had such brave courage that no one expected them to. Except for one,"— he couldn't get choked up, not in front of all of these people—, "they expected Harry to take care of— _Voldemort—_ and to never back down from protecting them even though he wasn't even an adult wizard. They heard about everything he had done, the four times throughout school that he was only a teenager and still fought You-Know-Who off, and assumed that he was never scared or afraid. That he never wished it had been someone else's responsibility. In a way, I guess we all expected him to be the sort of hero we read about in books— someone who is almost beyond human, but he wasn't.

Ron could feel the tears starting to well up in his eyes, and his throat was only getting more and more tight, but he managed to continue, "He may have tried to hide his feelings from everyone, but the people close to him— Hermione and I especially— always knew better. Harry was the most _noble_ person I ever met. If other people needed him to be strong, he wouldn't let them see that he was breaking under their expectations.

"And the crazy thing is that he felt ashamed whenever he cracked. When it came down to it, he wanted to be the hero. Not for the fame or the attention or the thrill, but because he wanted to save everyone from the pain he continually suffered.

"For seven years, I couldn't face his death. I couldn't stand that I hadn't done absolutely everything in my power to stop it, that I hadn't stayed by his side the entire Battle of Hogwarts. Whether or not his death was necessary to the destruction of Voldemort, I still blamed myself. And now— I guess I can't let what he did go to waste. I have to move on like the rest of the world and let this be what it should be— a holiday."

He couldn't speak anymore, the tears were falling freely on his face. He turned to go back to sit down, but was hugged tightly from behind by someone smaller and sniffling. He didn't move for a moment, frozen with sadness and confusion, but finally pulled the cloak that hid them.

At last, he cried in his sister's arms.


	3. Arguments of Mind

**A/N: For all you Draco lovers, the wait is almost over. Next chapter. Thank you for being patient. :)**

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Chapter Three: Arguments of Mind

No one moved, and no one spoke. Everyone sat in a shocked silence while Ron let Ginny comfort him. Finally, after a few moments the cameras started flashing even more quickly than ever and Hermione quickly stood and embraced both of them. Ron wasn't extremely sure what all went on but within ten minutes Kingsley had all the press, old school acquaintances, and other Ministry officials gone. Not long after that, he vanished as well. All that was left was family, Luna, and Neville.

Once they were left completely alone and the initial shock had departed, they all turned to Ginny. She was still putting up a good pretense of comforting Ron although he had long stopped crying. The Invisibility Cloak was wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl, causing quite the odd sight, but it was plain to see how much she had grown in her absence. Her hair hung down her back and to her waist, a deeper red than it had been seven years ago. Her freckles had faded and her skin seemed to be paler, almost as if weariness had drained the color right out of her skin.

She stood up and faced her brothers defiantly, but Ron could see her waver. He did nothing to stop it, although Hermione quickly gave her hand a kind squeeze.

"Hello," he heard her greet weakly, almost reminding him of her thirteen years ago.

Ron looked up at this, but not to her. Instead he looked around at his brother's expressions, all of them showing some degree of hurt and betrayal. She had been alive for seven years, after all, and hadn't said a word. He couldn't imagine what their mother would have said. Ron felt a very bitter feeling of justification when he saw the tears fill up Ginny's eyes once more as no one went to reply.

"Hey, Ginny," Luna said finally, her big gray eyes smiling kindly at the girl.

As some of the initial ice was broken, Bill went up to her and hugged her tight, and soon enough both of them were crying, him managing to choke out, "We missed you, Ginny. So much."

It was George that hugged her next, followed by Charlie and Percy, until their father that went up to her, choking on half-sobs. They held each other for a very long time, Ginny repeating "I'm sorry" over and over as she cried. He only held her closer.

After what seemed like forever, Ginny let go of their dad and turned to Ron. She came over and hugged him once more, and he felt the warm tears on her face. As much as he wanted to feel relieved that she was alive, all he felt was numb. It translated into his tone, as he formally said, "Hello, Ginny."

He might as well have called her Ginevra, so quick was the effect. She immediately moved back, her arms folding around herself, and said, "Hello, Ron."

Thankfully, Neville chose to come up to Ginny since the family was done, and Luna with him. Ron had heard most of the stories of their time at Hogwarts when he and Hermione had been off with Harry and he knew they had been terribly close. Ginny was crying, Luna was hugging her and telling her how everything would be fine, and Neville gave her supportive pats on the shoulder.

"I'm so sorry everyone," she managed to choke out, before rushing off the podium and running away. Luna and Neville both ran after her, but it seemed that maybe they thought they should give her space, or at the very least that Luna and Neville would both know what to do more than them.

Hermione was now looking intensely at him, apparently quite worried about his lack of emotion toward his sister, and she quickly opened her mouth to demand to know what was going on, but he interrupted her saying, "Not here."

She sort of glared, but they said their goodbyes—"Have to rescue Gabrielle from the kids"— and headed toward Hogsmeade so they could apparate. The walk didn't stay silent for very long at all, Hermione immediately asking, "What's the matter, Ron? I can understand that you're hurt, but you seemed different..."

"I know," he said quietly, "but I saw her and everything became numb. I wasn't angry, or hurt, or even happy— it just stopped."

"You need to talk to her," Hermione advised, "you both need to talk about everything. I know things were terrible for you two after Harry, and then your mom not long after, but it might help things."

"Hermione... if you knew the fight we had right after Mum was murdered..."

She sighed. "But I don't, you never talk about it. And I'm sure that's the problem right now... you've been bottling everything up for so long that it's become your natural reaction to just not feel anything negative."

"So what I'm supposed to do know then?" he retorted , feeling frustrated.

Hermione glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked, almost to Hogsmeade, and calmly said, "Remember the fight. Remember everything you both said that made you upset and let yourself feel upset. It's the only way you'll be able to let it go."

Ron frowned, and they walked in silence after that. Slowly, everything came back to him.

"_Ron, you need to come out and talk to everyone. You've been up here for days." she had told him, coming up to his room. There was a concerned expression on her face as she stood in his doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded. _

"_Leave it alone, Ginny."_

"_No." She snapped, "You're not the only one that's hurting. I know how bad things have been for you since— since the Battle— but Ron, there's plenty of people you love that are still alive. Think about how much pain Hermione is in, and Dad now..."_

"_No, actually, you don't know."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?" She asked warningly, her cheeks immediately turning a shade of pink._

"_You don't know how bad things have been. You don't know how it is for Hermione and I. You were only close to him for one year, Ginny. We spent every single day at Hogwarts with him and most summers. You can't _imagine_ what we're going through, you only had some stupid quick romance."_

_He was staring at her, even though in a way he was frightened by what he saw. He had never seen her this angry or this hurt, and even though tears were in her eyes her jaw was set furiously. _

"_How _dare_ you, Ron. I suppose because you're older than me you get to say you knew mum better and your pain is worse for her too, right? You spent more time with Fred at school so the same goes for him?" she argued viciously, "You're pathetic. You're taking all your grief out on everyone and making them miserable when you're _not the only one_ in pain! Get over yourself!"_

"It's not that easy! _Every time_ _I look at Hermione, the girl I am in love with, the first bloody thought that pops in my head is 'Harry should be around here somewhere'. I can barely be around her without wanting to drown myself and that's not how it's supposed to be! Merlin, I was going to bloody propose if we got through everything."_

_Ginny quieted at that, and realized that tears were falling from her eyes and his as well. He had said all of the things he had been bottling up, the things he kept trying over and over to deny to himself and Hermione. "So you'll both give each other space and grieve him and in a few months or less you'll be back together and happy. At least the person you're in love with, the person you've wanted to marry all your life isn't _dead."

"_It wasn't going to work anyway, Ginny."_

_She stepped back, as if stricken, "Spare me the details. And you know what, Ron, maybe it's a good thing you and Hermione are on such rocky terms because Merlin knows she deserves someone a lot stronger than you."_

Ron let go of remembering everything as Hermione muttered to him, and they quickly apparated from Hogsmeade to their home. He could see that his best friend turned wife was watching him extremely carefully as if she could read his mind if she stared long enough. He sighed, quickly offering, "I'll get the kids then?"

But before she could reply he had already apparated to the outside front step of Gabrielle Delacour's London flat. He rang the doorbell, trying desperately not to think any more about Ginny and fights and things, and Gabrielle answered the door not long after, with a still accented, "Hello."

"Are the kids still breathing?" He asked jokingly, and she laughed.

"Yes, they are fine. Come in and see."

They went inside, Gabrielle calling the kid's names, and soon two children appeared, running out the door and tackling Ron. Victoria, Bill and Fleur's daughter, waved.

"Hi Daddy!" Rose chirped.

"Daddy!" Hugo cried happily.

He couldn't help but laugh as he picked four-year-old Hugo up and held Rose's hand. When he looked back to Gabrielle, who was watching them quite wistfully, he asked, "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," she answered breezily, "it is just a favor between friends."

"Now come on," he insisted. After all, he knew she wasn't doing outstandingly financially, and it was always a rush to pay for things he didn't have to (even still) purely because he had the money now, "I won't leave until you take something."

She sighed, making Rose giggle at the two of them. "A sickle then."

"Four and we'll call it a deal," Ron proposed.

Gabrielle laughed, shaking her head as she took the proffered money from his hand, only saying, "If you must."

Rose laughed, saying something about how he was silly, and after giving a goodbye to Gabrielle they quickly went in the fireplace and flooed. When they appeared in the home fireplace, Ron was shocked to see Ginny alone in their kitchen and drinking tea at the table. Her brown eyes looked gloomy as she breathed in the steam, and she looked surprised as she looked up to see Ron and the kids.

"Where's Hermione?" He asked.

"Bathroom," She answered shyly, looking as though she felt quite awkward being around him.

Hugo was holding on even more tightly to Ron, afraid of the new visitor, but Rose went right up to her with a smile. "What's your name?"

Ginny looked down at her, a warm look appearing on her face, "Ginny. What's yours?"

"Rose," she answered, and then pointed to Ron and Hugo, "and that's my brother Hugo, but he's shy cause he's little."

Hugo was currently clutching onto Ron's robes with one hand and sucking his thumb with the other, but still looked quite alarmed at being addressed and hid his face in Ron's shoulder. If it was under different circumstances, Ron would have commented that he must have gotten this behavior from Ginny.

"Come on you two, it's time for bed," he told them.

Rose immediately pouted, but was still too well-behaved to argue. Hugo would have thrown a fit usually, but seemed quite happy to get away from the stranger. Ron took them down the hall and to their respective bedrooms, and as soon as they entered Hugo's room he battled to get down. As soon as Ron let him on the floor he leaped for his bed, grinning when his tiny little body flopped into it. Ron chuckled, tucking the blankets around him and kissing the top of his son's head.

As he left the room he caught Hermione in the hallway, and he quickly asked, "How did she get here?"

Rose quickly slipped past her parents as they started talking and back into the kitchen with their new visitor, apparently thinking she was quite sneaky. Ron shook his head as he heard his daughter quickly start up a new conversation.

"Neville sent her," Hermione answered, looking anxious, "he said that she needed to talk to one of us and he seemed to think I would be a better fit."

"Is she staying?" Ron asked, wondering what on earth his sister had been doing for the past seven years.

"I haven't asked her," she said, "though we should at least offer. Don't look at me like that, Ron, she's your sister and the kids need to get to know their aunt."

He sighed, finally muttering, "Go ahead then. I'm exhausted anyway, I need to go to bed."

Hermione gave him a reproachful stare, not easily fooled, and said, "Ron, if she's staying here you're not going to be able to avoid her forever. You will have to talk things through."

"I know, I know," he replied, "I have work in the morning though, and it's been a bloody hell of a day."

She sighed, but finally left him to go back to the kitchen. He quickly slipped into their bedroom, letting himself collapse on to the bed. He hadn't been lying— he was quite drained emotionally— and he fell asleep easily.

"_Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won... My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. ... Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now..."_

_He heard the words, felt Hermione's hand find his in the madness as he refused to believe any of it. Harry couldn't be dead. Not after everything, not after the past year that they had spent destroying Horcruxes, not after being _this _close..._

And then, for what was the hundredth time,_ he saw Harry, looking so extremely dead in Hagrid's arms. He felt himself shout, heard Hermione and Ginny's screams, even McGonagall... _

The dream jumped forward.

_Harry was alive after all, battling Voldemort with words. Ron could only barely concentrate, so sure that if Harry didn't keep this up that Voldemort would sneak a Killing Curse in and it would all be over once more, and then they raised their wands at the same time. _

_The same shouts of "Avada Kedavra" and "Expelliarmus" rang out once more. The Elder Wand flew in the air, but the Killing Curse could not be completely rebounded. The sheer force of the dueling spells hit them both, and within seconds they were both dead and Ron felt every small molecule of hope and happiness that had built up in the past twenty minutes expire._

Ron found himself sitting straight up in bed, beads of sweat covering his forehead. His breath was deep, the terror and pain re-surging through him all at once. Hermione's arms were around him, her face buried in his shoulder. She knew exactly what nightmares he had, of course, hers were completely the same.

"You were yelling for him," she said softly and he could hear the crack in her voice, "you didn't take your potion, did you?"

"I forgot," he answered, thinking back, "you'd think it would be habit by now."

She murmured, neither in agreement or otherwise, still holding him tight. Even after all these years, the nightmares they had still haunted them when they were awake and asleep, the pain never leaving completely.

They heard a noise a few feet away and both of them immediately looked up to see Rose standing in the doorway. She ran over as soon she saw their eyes turn to her, climbing into bed with eyes wide and full of concern. "What's the matter, Daddy? Did you have a nightmare?"

It crossed his mind, like it had earlier today as well, that he should have been the one comforting her. He pulled her into his arms, Hermione's still around him as she smiled at both of them, and told her, "Yes, sweet, it's okay now."

She cuddled with them for a moment, seeming to think that over, before consoling him, "Don't worry, Daddy. They aren't real, remember?"

He tensed, and Hermione ruffled their daughter's hair as she said, "Come on, honey, you need to get back to bed."

They untangled themselves from him and he sighed as Hermione led Rose off the bed and out the door. Ron laid back down, suddenly feeling old and weary. This wasn't an often occurrence anymore, especially since the kids had been born and they had started using dreamless potions, but it wasn't quite new to them either.

He heard a noise in the hallway once more and looked up when Hermione didn't come back to bed, only to see it had been Ginny that was now standing there. She had such a melancholic expression on her face that he felt his stomach twist, and she threw a liquid filled bottle to him. "It helps, believe me. Stronger grade. Goodnight."

Then she left, leaving him alone again. Hermione came in shortly after and saw him observing the bottle hesitantly. Dreamless potions were usually clear, but this one looked quite silver...

"Did Ginny give that to you?" Hermione asked, and he nodded, "well take it, then. You need the sleep."

He sighed, taking the cork off and drinking the warm contents. He put the empty bottle down on his nightstand and turned over, fighting the sleep that was already trying to take over.

_But I need the nightmares,_ he thought miserably, _I can't forget.  
_

* * *

__**A/N: Next chapter- Draco makes a comeback, Ginny is kidnapped, and Ron is afraid of Hermione. :)  
**


	4. Conclusions of Heart

Chapter Four: Conclusions of the Heart

He awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking and the sound of his alarm clock. The potion had worked fantastically, something he wasn't used to now that he had started to build up a tolerance. He turned the alarm clock off and sat up, quickly getting out of bed and dressing into work robes. As he finished, he grabbed his wand and walked out the door and down the hallway to the kitchen, remembering Ginny was there as he heard her voice. Hugo and Rose greeted him enthusiastically and Hermione looked up and smiled over her coffee. Ginny looked up, but then seemed unsure what to do and went back to eating.

"Morning, Ron. What time do you think you'll be home today?" Hermione asked as he got a huge helping of eggs and toast from the counter, shoving them onto his plate.

Hermione saw his huge portion and frowned, waving her wand and making half the portion go back into the pan. Ron waited until Rose distracted her and quickly retook the extra food and sat down. "It depends on what happens, 'Mione. Aurors don't have such strict schedules as you. Probably six though, why?"

"I thought it would be nice to do something with Ginny and the kids," she said, causing Ginny to look up at her unexpectedly.

"Oh," Ron replied, suddenly picking at his eggs. Quickly changing his mind though, he hurriedly scarfed them down along with his toast despite a glare from Hermione, "well I better be going. Kingsley wanted me to come in a little early, and he'll want an explanation about yesterday, I'm sure."

He took his wand out, about to apparate, but Ginny quickly looked up after being quiet and withdrawn the whole time, making him pause, "Do you— would you have time for lunch in Diagon Alley?"

There was a moment of silence where only Hugo's inherited noisy eating could be heard, which Rose was scolding him for, but Ron replied after the tense moment, "Sure. How about the restaurant across from Fortescue's at twelve."

He didn't wait for a response, simply apparating.

* * *

The day went by rather fast, and soon he found himself on lunch break. He found that he was even more nervous then he had expected to be, and momentarily wondered if it was worth dealing with an angry wife to not go to the lunch altogether. It wasn't a hard decision. He quickly apparated.

Ginny was sitting at one of the outside tables already, looking smart in some sharp green robes. He went over and sat opposite of her, noticing how much older she looked once more. She would be twenty-four in only a few months... It was hard to believe that they were old and at the same time hard to believe they were still considered so young.

"Mr. Ron Weasley! It's an _honor_ to have you at our restaurant! Here's the menu of course, and _please_ let me do you the honor of giving you a free meal. It's good publicity after all," the waiter said, adding the last bit under his breath.

Ron gave him a short embarrassed smile, and the waiter seemed satisfied, quickly leaving to return their drinks.

"You're certainly famous now, aren't you?" Ginny asked, looking amused at his probably red ears.

He shrugged it off, looking down at his menu. She did the same, but he noticed a flash of metal in the sunlight and looked up to see that she was wearing the same broomstick necklace that Harry had gotten her for Christmas right before they had dated. He quickly went back to the menu, the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach only worsening.

"Spaghetti," Ginny ordered after deliberation, and the plate appeared quickly before her. It took Ron only a few seconds after before he said, "Roast beef."

His plate appeared and the two of them only looked at their food before inadvertently glancing back at each other. There was an uncomfortable silence before Ginny broke it, awkwardly saying, "We need to talk."

"I know," he sighed, "do you want to start?"

"I suppose it's necessary," she admitted, suddenly focusing on her hands, "I know— I know what I did was horrible, disappearing like that. I regretted it as soon as I had left but then I was already too proud to come back."

"But why did you leave," he asked, his voice uneven, "I know we had that fight, but seven years?"

"'Cause everyone expected me to get over him like it was just some small tragedy, like I hadn't really known him enough to love him. I couldn't handle it anymore. It was easier to run away and be alone." She answered, looking both ashamed and terribly hurt.

"I'm sorry," he answered, finding relief in the fact that he was no longer numb, "I didn't realize how hard it was for you. I should have. I was so self-centered back then..."

"You were eighteen, Ron," she sighed, "and you had just lost your best friend and mom and brother. We both said horrible things."

Ron nodded, idly looking at his roast beef sitting uneaten on his plate. They had wasted so much time, he hated to think how Harry would have reacted to all of this... "So are you willing to let everything go? Be my favorite sister again?"

Her face showed surprised, and she quickly asked, "What?"

"Well, I mean," Ron started, "you are my only sister, but the past is hard enough to deal with. I don't want it to muddle up my future as well."

She didn't laugh at the sister joke like he had half wanted and expected her too, busy watching him closely. "You really have grown up, Ron."

"I know," he said lightly, shaking his head, "I keep telling Hermione she better find a spell to make it stop."

Ginny did laugh at that, and the effect was quite good on her. Even though they were only in their twenties, her eyes had look so worn and he noticed that she was more thin than ever. "You've grown too, Ginny. Mum would have been proud of how beautiful you are."

Her smile became a little wistful at that, and she twirled her fork around in her food instead of replying. They both began eating, a sure sign that everything was fine between them again, and finally the lunch came to a close. "I really do have to leave, Kingsley will have my head if I'm not back on time."

"It's okay," she said, "I'll see you after work."

* * *

He was almost done with his shift, just finishing up some paperwork about large snake skins being found just outside of Britain when someone burst into his office, and he looked up to see none other than Draco Malfoy. He couldn't help but frown, it was the last thing he needed before he was about to head home... "What do you want, Malfoy? I thought you lot were tracking down some wizard."

"Your sister's been captured, Weasley," he cut through.

Ron ignored him, although felt his wand itching in his pocket just waiting to perform a hex. "I just had lunch with her six hours ago, Malfoy, come up with a better joke."

"Merlin, you really are thick," Draco drawled, "I'm not lying to you, you dolt. I just received a letter."

It was then that Ron finally looked up, not because the story sounded more credible but because any sort of sincerity coming out of Draco Malfoy's mouth sounded vastly out of place. "Who? Who sent the letter?"

Draco paled to an even lighter shade than his usual albino complexion. "My father."

"Your _what_?"

"My father, Weasley."

"I thought he was dead," Ron replied, his voice sounding quite strange as it came out of his mouth, "didn't he just die of dragon pox?"

"Apparently not," Malfoy said, looking terribly irate at Ron's insensitive questioning.

Ron tried to reason through this, but none of it made sense and he felt anxiety rushing through him more and more. "Well, where would he have taken her?"

Draco shrugged this question off, not looking concerned about this part at least, "He isn't that creative. Most likely the old Manor."

"Fine," Ron said, his wits coming back to him again, "let's go."

"Weasley, it's wonderful that your Gryffindor bravado has managed to stick with you after all these years, but we need to come up with a plan and inform the right people before we go rushing into—,"

"Oh bugger off, Malfoy, I just got my sister back," he snapped, immediately taking out his wand, "you are the last bloody person that's about to stand in my way."

"Fair enough," he drawled, "however, you're still forgetting a bigger problem."

"_What_?" Ron demanded.

"Granger."

* * *

Ginny Weasley lay on the damp, cold stone floor and wondered where she was. The place wasn't familiar at all. It seemed like a dungeon and she wasn't sure she wanted to know what was in some of the other cells. There weren't any windows or any source of light that she could trace, and yet she could see everything around her. There must have been some sort of spell done, and she wished they had at least spelled the stone room to be a little warmer.

The last thing she remembered was Ron forgiving her and then him leaving to go back to work. The waiter had come back out again, and she remembered that something had seemed off about him. He had smiled, asked who she was, and she had politely replied. When he heard her name he had grinned in a creepy manner, but that was the very last thing that she could recall.

She realized after a moment that she was unconsciously fingering her necklace, a sort of nervous habit that she had developed. Trying to figure out how on earth she was supposed to get out of this cell without a wand, she started thinking, but was startled by a chill that she hadn't felt in a long time. She heard the long, hallow breathing next and whatever magical light she had been seeing with vanished. It didn't take light to know exactly what it was though. She could never forget the feel of the dementors.

Memories of Tom Riddle and her first year came unbidden into her mind. Flashes of Harry, Fred, her mother, even Collin Creevy's dead bodies appeared on the back of her eyes. She tried to wake up, tried to remember happy things, but she was still trapped in terrible nightmares. Distantly, she heard someone call the dementor back. She felt it leave, but her consciousness faded away before she could thank them.

* * *

Ron winced at Malfoy's response, knowing that the stupid git was right about at least that. "Well, I don't have to tell her. Come on, you're wasting time."

"Granted, I do take pride in not knowing your wife any better than I have to," Draco said slowly, a scowl forming on his face, "but even I know her well enough to be certain that is a terrible mistake."

"She's done dangerous things without telling me!" He defended, but realized that Draco wasn't about to care if he and Hermione got into a fight anyway, "Now you can either come with me and act like a proper Lead Hitwizard or go skulk of in some corner like usual."

It seemed that Ron had finally persuaded the cautious Slytherin by pure pride alone, and he quickly took hold of Ron's arm and apparated to the outside the tall, intimidating gates of Malfoy Manor. The gardens had grown tall and untamed, and most of the once proud house seemed to be in a shoddy state. Draco stood, glaring off at the house as if it was Buckbeak or something equally as offensive to him, and then turned to Ron. "Weasley, I have to tell you something, but I don't imagine you'll like to hear it."

"What, Malfoy?" Ron asked impatiently, drawing his wand cautiously. The last thing he needed was for this to be a set-up. He had rather rushed into all of this, he thought nervously.

"If it is my father that kidnapped your sister, which I am dubious about for the record, it's to get back at me. Not to perform some evil blood traitor sacrifice, or whatever scenario you've concocted in your head."

He felt hesitant and angry as he asked, "And what the hell does that have to do with Ginny?"

"Well," Draco said, eying Ron's wand uncertainly, "your sister's been staying with me for almost a year."

And with that, Ron forgot his wand and punched him straight in the face.

* * *

A/N: Ah, the truth comes out. Got to love it. These next few chapters are quite a bit more action-oriented so hold on! We have Dark Wizards to defeat! :)


	5. The Deepest Wounds and Scars

Chapter Five: Deepest Wounds and Scars

"She's been staying with you for a YEAR and you didn't have the guts to tell me?" Ron yelled furiously.

Malfoy was holding his jaw, not looking at all sorry at the moment as he argued, "Sorry, Weasley, but if women show up on my doorstep all bloody and despaired, I'm not going to say, 'Get off my doorstep and go to your brother that I can't stand and don't owe anything to; oh by the way, you're bleeding all over my floormat.'"

"You don't even LIKE her! What the hell were you doing taking her in?"

The other man looked as though he had quite wished he hadn't now, answering, "I was atoning for my father. I'm sure Potter informed you it was him that gave your sister that diary our second year. Not to mention I knew it would piss you off and I like people owing me favors... She was going to move to America soon enough anyway."

"YOU WOULD HAVE LET HER MOVE TO AMERICA WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE?"

Draco was starting to look annoyed now. "Look, Weasley, she made me promise not to tell anyone and like I previously mentioned, I didn't owe you anything. Maybe you should be yelling at your sister for getting herself in such a compromising situation."

"You don't OWE me anything? The Order didn't tell the Ministry about you and your Vanishing Cabinet and attempts to kill Dumbledore not to mention Harry, Hermione, and I saved your LIFE at the Battle—,"

"The Order didn't tell them because my mother is the reason Potter was _able_ to kill Voldemort. And I bought you time when you idiots got yourself captured and taken here," he snapped back, his grey eyes turning dark, "arguably saving your life first at the risk of mine."

"Yeah, well bollocks on that! All you ended up doing was getting my sister kidnapped by your effing psychotic father who thinks you give a shite about her!" Ron shot back, waving his wand angrily.

Draco's eyes hardened into an almost stormy black, and there were light pink spots on the blonde's cheeks. His jaw was clenched tight, along with his fists, "Don't you _ever_ blame me for what my father does again, Weasley. Also, I don't remember ever stating that I disliked your sister as much as your miserable arse so you can sod off."

And with that Draco waved his wand at the gates, making them open, and Ron followed in a violent fashion.

* * *

Ginny opened her eyes to see a tall figure standing over her, but was so relieved to be awake that she didn't care who the person was. She let herself shake with relief, finally looking up and seeing the outline of the person through the shadows.

"Hello, Ginevra," a cold voice drawled, and she felt her blood run cold at the sound. She had heard it so many times in her nightmares...

She lifted her head to watch him and tried to speak, but her throat was sore from the screaming she had done earlier. He didn't seem to want her to speak anyway, of course. He watched her with pure blue eyes, so misfitting on such an evil being, and smiled. "It has been long, hasn't it? Surely you didn't believe I was dead, little Ginny. You should have known I would _always_ be around."

It couldn't be him. It must just be another horrible nightmare, she was sure of it. Harry had defeated him, there had been peace for seven years. It wasn't possible, she mentally cried, looking at the man who had stolen her childhood. Finally, she found her voice deep down. "Hello, Tom."

* * *

Ron stalked Malfoy until he caught up with him, turning the man around with a firm and short shove. "What do you mean you care for Ginny, Malfoy? Cause if you're bloody shagging my sister even Kingsley won't be able to stop me from killing you."

"I am not _shagging_ your sister," Draco spat, "Merlin, it's no wonder she ran away from your stupid lot for seven years."

Ron whipped out his wand, but Draco was just as fast. Even though he would never admit it, he knew they were probably evenly matched in skill. The only advantage Draco had was a vast knowledge of Dark magic that Ron had never learned.

"I think you're lying. Your father obviously knows something or he wouldn't have taken her." Ron retorted. "So what the hell is going on?"

"Shut _up_, Weasley!" Draco shouted, "I'm not going on about this when we're supposed to be arresting my father and rescuing your sister. How an immature, incompetent wizard like you ever got the Head Auror position is beyond me."

And before Ron could even mutter a return insult, Draco had walked off resolutely. Once the anger subsided to a manageable level Ron realized how childish he had indeed been. It seemed that Malfoy made him revert easier than he had hoped he would have.

They walked in a very moody silence, and as Draco walked forward and arrow shot out and barely missed his chest. He fell back to the ground, and Ron saw his face was quite pale and there seemed to be shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there only a few minutes ago. Ron proffered a hand, but it was pushed away. "Shove off, Weasley."

"What's the matter?" Ron asked, "You look like hell."

Draco muttered a colorful insult in return and Ron scowled, but didn't respond. It seemed that something was quite off... Ron couldn't imagine that Malfoy would have forgotten any hidden traps on his own property and even if he had his reaction should have been faster than that. Ron quickly paid more attention and heard the other wizard's heavy breathing. Something was definitely wrong.

And no sooner had the thought crossed his mind, did Draco faint.

* * *

Ginny cried as her arm was burned, the spell branding the twisted shape into her skin. She glanced down out of pain, and tried very hard not to sob and give him even more satisfaction. The Dark Mark, the symbol of everything she hated and had fought against, was now a part of her body. Part of her would much preferred dying. It would have been so nice to be with Harry again...

She turned her head away, noticing that Tom was watching her. The thought alone that he was still alive was enough to break her, let alone being in his captivity. No one could hurt her like Tom Riddle.

"I do hope the mark wasn't that painful," he smirked, looking down at her, "I did bind the spell with the Imperio Curse. One of my favorites back in the day, you see."

"Go to hell," she spat back, only causing him to laugh.

"That requires dying," he said with a nasty grin , "and Lord Voldemort— _flight from death_— does not die."

* * *

Ron was kneeling over Draco trying hard to wake him up. As much as he disliked the man he wasn't about to leave him here alone when Merlin knew what was lurking, although he did quite want to. He cursed a few more times and shot another round of Waking Spells at him. Finally, Draco's eyes fluttered open at the fourth spell. He sat up slowly, then stood up as well after a short time. Ron watched him getting up also.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

"I just tripped," the blonde said sarcastically, brushing off his robes and picking up his wand, "nothing to worry about."

"Oh, bloody hell. I know it's a foreign concept, Malfoy, but just tell me the truth." Ron snapped.

But before the blonde could even make one mention to Ron's family and their lack of money or anything similar they were interrupted by a black raven flying down from the cloudy sky, a letter attached to it's small leg. The bird flew to Draco who held an outstretched arm for it, and Draco quickly took the letter from the bird. Ron gasped when as soon as Draco had the letter, the bird burst into flames.

He watched as Malfoy's face grew paler and paler reading the letter. Ron tried desperately not to groan as he repeated the hopeful mantra of, _Please no more bad news,_ in his mind.

"We came to the wrong place," Draco said, still gazing at the letter and looking as if he was on his deathbed.

Ron took the paper from him, watching Malfoy's reaction the whole time before reading the letter himself. He gasped audibly as he saw who had signed it. _Tom Riddle._

The cold wind hit against them as they stood there— Ron only noticed now how stormy the weather was— threatening clouds starting to rumble. A letter flew in the wind, twisting and turning as it went.

_Draco Malfoy,_

_When you get this letter you will no doubt be heading for Malfoy Manor. I feel it agreeable to tell you that whatever that befuddled waiter told you, I am neither your dead father or anywhere near your childhood home._

_You and your mother betrayed our side, Draco, and when you come to me you will pay the right price for it. Either death because of your own arrogance, or by serving me once again. How wonderful that you made this so easy for me, falling in love with one of the worst blood traitors of your generation._

_Ginny Weasley will soon be hurt even more if you do not come faster. I suppose it is time for you to play Potter's part, isn't it?_

_I am at Azkaban._

_Tom Riddle._

Ron watched as Draco simply stood there, his face a chalky mixture of green and white. He wouldn't have been surprised if his looked just as bad, because after all, how could this have happened? How could Voldemort be back? Hadn't they destroyed everything left of him? Every last Horcrux? Had he had some other way of survival that even Dumbledore couldn't have guessed?

The though chilled him deep in the bones and trying to distract himself he spoke, his voice sounding quite strained, "Guess we'll need that back up, huh?"

Draco startled, brought out of his own thoughts, then agreed for probably the first time that they had ever known each other, "Yeah. Guess we'll need that back up."

When Ron and Draco apparated into the Ministry of Magic and quickly used the loo to get to the Magic Law Enforcement Department the first thing they saw was a particular venomous looking Hermione, yelling at an office intern about what an idiot her husband was.

Ron considered just going to Azkaban alone instead.

Unfortunately, Hermione caught sight of them before he could do so (the intern quickly bolted). "What on_ earth_ possessed you to run off with Malfoy and not tell anyone where you were going, Ronald Weasley?"

"Hermione—,"

"WE HAVE TWO CHILDREN, Ronald! What could possibly be worth making me worry absolutely sick? You KNOW how Rose gets!"

"I—," he looked to Draco for support, but Malfoy merely stood there, leaning quite heavily on the door of the office. Ron looked back to her nervously. "I— Ginny was taken, Hermione. All signs point to Tom Riddle, or at least some lunatic Death Eater."

The blood drained out of her face. "That can't be— she's _gone_?"

"Yes," Malfoy said, and Ron glanced to his side only to see Draco faint once more.

Hermione gasped, quickly going over to him and pulling out her wand, "Ron, something's wrong with him... _Ennervate."_

"Funnily enough, I noticed that," Ron said dryly, "That's the second time he's done that. Rather anticlimactic after a while, really."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped, looking quite annoyed at his nonchalance.

He only shrugged, saying, "Can you take him to St. Mungo's? I need to talk to Kingsley as soon as possible and get a team together..."

"Ron, I know you don't like him, but Draco _is_ the lead hit-wizard. Hasn't Kingsley been telling you to try and get along with him?"

"Yeah, and load he'll do good now, fainting all over the place. He's been a right mess just trying to get to and from his house! Not to mention the bloody git has been housing Ginny for a year!"

Hermione bit her lip, looking deep in thought and sending the spell at Draco's chest once more, and he finally woke up, wincing. He looked so miserable that Ron almost felt a smidgen bad for him. Then the man looked at Hermione and said, "Ah, _Granger_."

"You know it's been _Weasley_ for five years, Malfoy," Ron snapped irritably.

He only smirked, looking to Hermione. "Never thought you'd marry this git. The IQ difference is staggering after all."

Hermione grabbed Ron's hand before he could grab his wand, glaring at Draco as he got off the floor. "Oh, shut up, Draco. I think we can move past the same boring insults."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything more. He looked to Ron, "So are we going to tell Kingsley or just stand here and argue instead?"

"You're not telling him anything," Ron scowled, "Hermione was just about to send you to St. Mungo's."

Malfoy looked incredibly vicious for one second, glaring as he spat out, "Try it."

But Hermione didn't say anything, only looking the blonde with narrowed eyes and the same studious glance she gave books. "I can tell you're under influence of Dark Magic, Malfoy, I know the signs. Explain what's going on before I alert more than just Kingsley."

"You always were obnoxiously smart," he snapped, but Hermione looked far from insulted, "if you must know, this is what it looks like when an Unbreakable Vow is starting to be broken."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much to all the new followers! Hope you enjoy!**


	6. Where Loyalty Lies

** A/N: I'm out of prewritten content, so the next chapter might take a little to post. Sorry about that, but please enjoy this chapter. A lot goes on :)  
**

* * *

Chapter Six: Where Loyalties Lie

"But what—,"

"Your sister isn't a complete idiot, Weasley. She wasn't going to just stay with me with no precautions." Draco said.

Hermione frowned, asking, "How did you word things?"

"I had to promise not to intentionally seriously hurt her myself or let anyone else intentionally seriously hurt her," he replied, looking very regretful.

"Why?" Ron asked, "why would you agree to that?"

"I told you, Weasley, while I may not be your idea of an upstanding person I still didn't like what my father did to her. It put us in an awkward sort of debt. This was something that matched the severity."

Hermione still looked a little dubious, but was still far more willing to trust what was being said than he was, saying, "Well alright, but that doesn't mean you're in any shape to go battling— whoever this is."

"Right," Draco argued, "as if I'm just going to put my life in the hands of Weasley over here and hope for the best. Whoever this iswants_ me_, _I'm_ the one who got the letter."

The many ministry officials were walking around, not noticing the scene playing out, and notes flew in all directions above them. Hermione looked at Ron and they watched each other wordlessly for a moment, trying to communicate the worry and fear. Finally, Hermione said, "If Draco is who he wants, then you need to take him as well. It won't do any good to rush in without him, you don't know how this person will react."

Ron nodded, trusting her despite everything. There had been so many unsaid things in their look, but Ron knew what she had been trying to say. _Do whatever you need to. _

He had finally found the intense courage and determination that Harry had been naturally born with, locked inside him all this time, five years ago when the Healing Nurse handed him a pink bundle named Rose and again when Hugo was born.

Nothing could stop him.

* * *

Ron and Draco stood across from each other, both facing the pillar holding a Portkey on top, circled by thirty hit-wizards and Aurors. Draco looked around at all of them, each different, sizing them up. He gave a glance to Ron and then turned back to face them as he leaned on a cane, still weak.

"It's only fair to tell you what you could be up against. If any of you want to back out, I would understand, but you are needed."

There were slight hints of scowls on all of their faces at the phrase, "back out", and Ron felt slightly encouraged by the team. His Aurors weren't as trained for this as hit-wizards. Aurors were trained to capture. Hit-wizards were trained to kill.

"We will be heading to the old Azkaban prison, where a Dark Wizard will be waiting. He appears to be a rogue Death Eater, pretending to be the Dark Lord. This is what we are hoping for."

The few wizards and witches that caught on to his wording blanched, although one of the hit-wizards laughed. "You're kidding, right? Voldemort's as likely to come back as the Chudley Cannons are to win the World Cup."

Ron scowled at the Quidditch team reference, but before he could say anything, Draco was in the older wizard's face. "Do I _look_ like a person who kids around, Dawton?"

Dawton backed away quickly, even though Draco had to be at least twenty years his junior. "N- No, I didn't mean—,"

"Good," Draco snapped waspishly, "if anyone else wants to joke about the situation at hand I advise you to go back to the Ministry and hand in your robes to Kingsley."

He looked around, as if waiting for them to apparate, but no one moved. Ron got their attention and moved closer to the Portkey, the others following him. "On three," he announced.

"Three," Draco said, almost immediately after, and they all grabbed on.

* * *

Ginny was awoken to a pain in her arm, but for some reason she found she couldn't care. She sat in a cold stone chair, completely bound to it. Tom was there, pacing, with such a greedy expression on his face that she found herself quite nervous. He looked up at her, as if he had heard her thoughts, saying, "You should be worried. They're here to save you, like the predictable things they are. Are you ready to be saved?"

She shook her head, even though she was sure she was trying to do her hardest to do the opposite, "I am under your protection, am I not?"

Her voice had sounded frightening and empty to her, and she wondered desperately how Harry had been able to fight this off, how she had to be able as well...

"As long as you do my bidding, little Ginny," he sneered, then smiling as if he realized something, "but then again, it doesn't look like we'll have any trouble with that, does it?"

* * *

The salty sea air whipped around them, and the foreboding black sky did nothing to make Ron feel welcome. The Portkey had taken them a few yards away from the entrance, and even though Ron knew the dementors of the castle were long gone, the feeling of being dowsed in icy cold water remained.

"She's here."

Ron turned to Draco, whose expression looked unreadable. He wasn't leaning on his cane at the moment, but Ron could tell he was still in pain. The grey shadows under his eyes and the white first holding the cane hadn't missed his attention after all. Briefly, he wondered when the measly Slytherin that had screamed about Buckbeak had grown up.

"Bones, you and your team will patrol the perimeter. Dawton, stay with them. I don't won't your miserable arse getting killed if you laugh at the wrong person," Draco ordered, "Smith, take your team and come with us."

"Wait, I thought only you and I were going in," Ron said, feeling off-footed as Malfoy barked orders.

Draco stared at him, "Are you ill, Weasley? I know you think you've done this all before so your perception is skewed, but in the adult world we don't go barging after Dark Wizards with only two people."

It took all the maturity he had gained over the years not to argue or insult Malfoy in response, and he simply clenched his jaw. "Fine, as long as they know that my sister isn't a target as well."

"They know," he snapped, "I don't exactly fancy dying."

"Good. Then you agree she's our priority? That we'll all end up dead if this is who we think it is and we try do anything but just save her?" Ron argued. It wouldn't be easy, of course, not to fight more than necessary.

Draco looked at his team of wizards and witches, his jaw set. "You heard him."

"Let's go then," Ron said.

They set off the small path and it wasn't long before they were finally there.

"There's no door," Draco remarked as they reached the jet black rocky walls, vines and moss of algae covering most of the building.

Ron was almost sure he could feel darkness radiating from the building itself, "No, I didn't expect there to be one."

"Care to explain, then?" Draco snapped.

He took his wand out, and Draco followed. The Aurors and Hitwizards clambered around them, giving them some space but not the privacy that Ron would have wanted. There was something different about this, he thought, than his usual Auror duties. This, well this was personal. He finally understood what Harry had felt all those years when they never went to teachers or other people for help.

Ron looked up at Draco, saying, "You need to give blood to gain entrance. It's supposed to weaken you."

Draco frowned, using his wand to cut his hand. He glanced at Ron, who motioned to the wall, and smeared his blood across the rock without even one wince. They all stood back as a door appeared and Ron steeled himself as he led the way.

As soon as they went in, Ron almost gasped as he saw rows upon rows of seemingly endless cells. Draco moved past him, not as caught off guard, taking the lead. Ron wondered if he had visited his father here before. "Do you know where we're going?"

"They're in the dungeons, I'm sure," Draco answered, "the lower you get, the worse the criminal."

He worried, at that, but didn't say anything else. The team behind them didn't say anything, simply following in complete silence. They had cast spells on their feet and robes for stealth. He felt himself getting restless in the tense and nervous silence, finding it harder and harder to concentrate. He looked to Draco, trying to see what the other man was thinking, but his face was unreadable. Finally, they reached the end of the hallway, faced with a tall black metal door.

Ron opened it, when Draco just stood there hesitantly, and went through easily. The others came through as well, ahead of Draco, and finally the Lead Hit-wizard had no other choice but to come through as well. Ron watched, a gut feeling of wariness coming to him. He was right to be concerned. The whole sleeve of his left arm caught on fire, and Draco's face was contorted with pain as he was levitated inside the door frame. A few of the Aurors shot spells, but they all ricocheted back.

Two minutes later, after the team had tried everything, Draco fell forward and collapsed to the ground. Ron moved forward immediately to help him up, his stomach clenching when he saw Draco's left arm. It was red and black with horrible looking blisters, but the Death Eater's mark stood clearly. It wasn't black as usual, but looked as if fire itself was swimming through the design.

Draco allowed himself to be helped up with his right arm, standing shakily even with his cane. It took a moment, but finally he was steady again after closing his eyes and gripping his wand tightly. Draco muttered, "Glad we have the portkey. That'd be impossible getting out."

"What was that?" Ron asked quietly, quite freaked out about the whole thing, "something whoever this is did?"

The team was watching them carefully, listening intently. Draco gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "No, that's the Ministry's doing. This is where all the proven Death Eaters— the one's who had the Mark were kept. Make sure they didn't get out."

"But why would it hurt going in?" one of the people— Smith, it looked like— asked.

Draco looked around, as if only realizing now that he had a full audience, "Mm, one way to make sure the dementors fed on them. Some of the prisoners were lucky if they made it to their cells without turning mad."

Ron held back a shudder. Draco looked back at all of them, glancing at Ron, announcing, "Quiet now, all of you. Wands out. We're almost there."

* * *

Ginny looked around the rather small cell and bit her lip. Her head hurt desperately, and it felt like something inside her was trying to erupt and break free. She gave a small cry, and the other part of her went back down and disappeared. Tom had told her what she had to do, and now it was merely a matter of waiting. She was sitting, still enchained in the same chair. The binding wrapped from her hands to her arms, hiding the fact that she now had her wand again. Her mouth had been left unbound but her legs were tied to the chair as well.

It wasn't long before she managed to hear running footsteps tap against the hard stone floor, only two, she thought. But then the door opened and there was a whole team of Aurors and Hit-wizards following Draco and her brother Ron. Ron quickly pointed his wand at her, the bindings flying away and her wand becoming loose and she quickly sent one of the most powerful Stunning Hexes she had ever performed and took out the entire team, Ron caught in the midst. She watched as they fell to the ground, and lowered her arms. Draco, still standing from where he had stopped rushing over to her, narrowed his eyes.

"Wonderful. The Imperio Curse," he muttered, then angrily shouting at the walls, "really class act!"

"Tom isn't controlling me," Ginny said, her wand still out and facing him. For some reason her voice sounded off, and that struggling part of her was coming up again.

"Ah, of course," Draco said sarcastically, "because you often take up knocking out Ministry law officials."

She knew what she had to do, and with the way Draco was acting at the moment it wouldn't be easy. Staring at him, her eyes hard and cold, she spoke quietly. "You never really knew me. I did this of my own will."

Draco's eyes darkened, but the look on his face only got more stubborn and determined as he watched her, his wand not lowering in the slightest. "Well go on, then. Tell me your evil master plan."

"I've been on Tom's side for a very long time now. Harry was the only reason I didn't leave the Order sooner. I loved him despite whatever he believed in. With him dead— well, I didn't have anything holding me back anymore," she said, a taunting lilt in her tone, "Didn't you find it a little odd that I chose to show myself on the day of Harry's death? And only a few days after Tom regained a body? Although you wouldn't have known about that last part, would you?"

His face was blank and unreadable... he must be starting to believe her. Only a little more to go. She stood up and walked down to where she was in front of him. He didn't move, staring down into her eyes.

"Funny, how it all fits isn't it? It seems you've lost your touch, you trusted everything I told you from the first day. You even made an Unbreakable Vow! Now, here you are while you face your enemy, completely unable to hurt me." She stopped for a moment, letting what she had said sink in, although he didn't seem to need the time.

He moved closer to her then, his face becoming hard as he softly whispered, "Stunning performance, Weasley. It's far too bad I learned Legillemency from a Death Eater."

And then he grabbed her arm, after quickly spelling her and she felt herself slip away.

* * *

Draco felt relief as Ginny's eyes fell closed and she went unconscious. There was a fine line he was toeing at, spelling her like that. Luckily for him the spell that she had performed was powerful enough to knock almost everyone out, but not nearly powerful enough to be more than only temporary. They came to in seconds, Draco feeling more and more wary by the minute, and they all grabbed the Portkey to get to the grounds. And as soon as they were outside and had alerted the others, they apparated.

_It was far too easy._

* * *

**A/N: So that's this chapter! Not really a cliffhanger per se, but at least an action filled one. Obviously we'll deal with the emotion of it all next. :)**

**Please review! Let me know what you want to see!**


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